


a silence, as of snow, for miles

by savetheclaypots



Series: "the rupture" codas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode Tag: s15e03, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 17:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21280349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savetheclaypots/pseuds/savetheclaypots
Summary: The door closes with a heavy thud, and for a second, two, a heartbeat, everything quiets.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: "the rupture" codas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534001
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	a silence, as of snow, for miles

**Author's Note:**

> if you haven't, you may want to read part 1 before reading this. turns out i wasn't done with the suffering. 
> 
> title and outro from carl phillips's "directions from here"

The door closes with a heavy thud, and for a second, two, a heartbeat, everything quiets. The hush feels like cotton in his ears. Or water, maybe. Thick until it pops. Rings. But until then there's silence. Time ticks a little slower, imperceptibly so -- or just enough to be unsettling.

The door closes with a heavy thud that drowns everything else, until Dean hears the bunker come alive around him. Quietly, at first, then insistent. The refrigerator hums, and the bunker itself hums with old static. The pipes settle, and Sam's mattress creaks, his chair drags on the floor. Dean can hear the false starts of his breathing, the shallowness of it. The tight noise of his hands holding the table. The ringing in his ears, the echo of the door closing with a heavy thud and the quiet _the quiet-_

But the bunker is not quiet. Not ever, not even after the door closes with a heavy thud. The sounds of the bunker become jumbled and undifferentiated. They buzz and buzz until Dean can't tell each sound apart anymore: his breathing and his hands, Sam in his room, the door, the door, the do-

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It _doesn't._

It's the absence of sound. Of words Dean could ever only say to himself. Words Dean could barely say to himself. Words like: _Stay._ And: _I'm sorry,_ and _I think I hate you a little. But I don't I **don't** you just scare me._ Or maybe: _You're wrong. You got it all miserably wrong_ and **_Stay_**. But Dean doesn't know how to be honest without spilling his guts on the floor. He never learned how to say these things without love turning into a length of rope. Love that doesn't hurt. Love that doesn't sound like light extinguishing and ashes on sand. Love that doesn't sound like a door closing.

So silence. So the door closes with a heavy thud. 

**Author's Note:**

> _now speak of ruin--_   
_that appetite for it,_   
_by which the one who loves_   
_knows most immediately _   
_his beloved._


End file.
